


From the Battlefield to the Hearth

by GaHoolianGirl



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: As in talking about kids, Daydreaming, F/M, Honeymoon, I have a big scary lady orc and he has a hard on for women who can kill him, In a...unique sense, Just Married, Love/Awestruck Farkas, Relationship Discussions, sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 21:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12802641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: Honeymoons were an uncommon concept in Skyrim, as your average citizen could barely afford their daily bread, let alone an extended trip designed purely for celebration. So if you really wanted one, you had to get creative.Luckily for Farkas, Durashu had some ideas.“One day, would you ever want to consider children?”“Children?”





	From the Battlefield to the Hearth

**Author's Note:**

> I had like 3 unfinished Dragonborn/Farkas fics, and now I only have 2, because I really really just wanted to publish ONE for Pete's sake. Anyway, important info on this Dovahkin: She's almost 7 feet tall, could kill you with a decent poke, has extra pointy teeth even for an orc, is a stone cold badass but also a big (literally) 'ol softie.
> 
> Also I'm not someone whose big into lore so if honeymoons are a common thing in Skyrim (which I highly doubt) forgive me.

Honeymoons were an uncommon concept in Skyrim, as your average citizen could barely afford their daily bread, let alone an extended trip designed purely for celebration. So if you really wanted one, you had to get creative.

Luckily for Farkas, Durashu had some ideas.

Their ceremony, like all Nord weddings (she had agreed to marry in his tradition because the Orcish way involved more bloodshed than necessary), was short and to the point, with exchanged vows, rings on their fingers, and then they were done. They even remained in their armor the whole time (he found something wickedly attractive about her imposing form clad in steel so he didn’t mind).

But this particular happy couple had not even yet left the temple when the bride grabbed the groom’s arm.

“I’ve got a job. A mine filled with angry draugr needs clearing out, and I want you to come with me.”

Farkas had outstanding jobs that needed taken care of, so he really should have said no.

“You’re Harbinger. You say where, I go.”

Her mouth curled into a grin, revealing even more of those sharp teeth he shouldn’t find so alluring, and confidently walked out of the temple like she was completely assured he’d follow.

He did.

The first half of their “honeymoon” was spent in a carriage ride until the terrain got too mountainous for the horse. They talked normally at first, about the state of the Companions, recent job’s they’ve been on, combat tips... until she surprised him, as she was wont to do.

“One day, would you ever want to consider children?”

“Children?”

Durashu had never felt hesitation or nervousness, that was impossible when you stood three heads taller than everyone around you and carried an axe about that same size, but for this brief moment she looked worried about what he might say. They were warriors, and she spent most of her time up close and personal with dragons. Their life spans were not predicted to be very long.

But then images started to form in his head.

Of a him watching as a child took a few practice swings with a wooden blade, assaulting the practice dummies in the courtyard behind Jorrvaskr hall’s. “More power!” he chides, and smiles when they take his advice, knocking some of the straw stuffing out of it’s fake stomach.

And then he could see himself tucking them into bed, feeling a type of pride he never thought he could. Then he returns to their sitting room, joining Durashu as she polishes her vast array of weaponry. Most tender daydreaming portrayed your spouse cooking or sewing or other gentle pastimes, but to picture Durashu with anything other than a blade in hand felt wrong.

He would walk over to her, careful to make his footsteps know to avoid meeting the newly sharpened end of her axe. His hands fall upon her broad shoulders as he lays a kiss atop her head. Such a saccharine gesture was foreign to him, even in a fantasy, but yet he could imagine himself doing nothing else.

“Farkas?”

He was awoken from his waking dream by the sound of her gravelly voice, so intimidating to foes and so melodious to him. Durashu had climbed a rock before him him and was offered a hand to pull him up. He took it, and was at her level with the barest effort on her part.

“I could see myself as a family man.”

There was a tight squeeze on his hand before he was pulled into an almost literally bone crushing hug. They embraced like that for a moment, halfway up the snowy mountain on their way to slaughter a mine full of ancient undead. One she released him, Durashu plowed on ahead like she was the one in charge (she was, literally and metaphorically), giving him time to grin to himself before continuing.

From the field of battle to the hearth and home, he’d follow wherever she chose to lead.•

**Author's Note:**

> My other fics detail the beginning of their relationship, while this is more the beginning of the middle. Getting characters down in a game where character building is overshadowed by world building is tough, but I did my best and I hope it worked out!


End file.
